


Feels Like the Very First Time

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard's hair hasn't been this color for a very long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like the Very First Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inlovewithnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/gifts).



> Today is the birthday of one of the most amazing people I've ever had the privilege of knowing. She has been my very best friend in the wacky world of the internet and has met me in real life and not run away in fear, despite many chances (and not taking into account that she keeps moving further and further east from me...though if she keeps it up, she's going to live in the Atlantic). She said she wanted it to mean something that Gerard went back to brown hair that he probably hasn't seen in a couple decades, so I wrote this for her. All mistakes are my own.

Mikey gets to the bunker earlier than normal since it's his turn to supply the coffee. He'd stopped at Starbucks to get one for himself as well as a bag of beans and he's sipping his triple shot on the way to the little kitchenette to grind the coffee for the pot when he notices someone sitting in the dark.

"You're the most ineffectual burglar ever."

"Maybe I'm not here to burgle. Maybe I'm here to murder you and eat your body and gain your power."

"My power to play the bass moderately well and look stoic?" Mikey drops the coffee on the counter and goes into sit on the arm of the chair Gerard has claimed for himself. He hands over his Starbucks cup and lets Gerard take a drink. "Or my mad skills at video games?"

"Actually, I'm just going to steal your phone and all your friends and contacts." Gerard takes a sip from the cup and then another, leaning in to rest his head on Mikey's side. "Hey."

"You been here all night?"

"Not quite." 

Mikey nods and shifts, leaning against the back of the chair and tugging Gerard in so that his head is cradled against Mikey's stomach. He strokes Gerard's hair, combing through the strands with his fingers. It's getting longer, changing color every day as the red and the gold fade. Yesterday it was a muted dirty blond with darker roots, like something out of a heroin chic photo shoot. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I had some ideas and I was too noisy in the house. Woke up Bandit. Got her back to sleep and came here." He relaxes back against Mikey, closing his eyes. "You're early."

"Coffee duty."

"Early even for that." 

"Pig woke up early so we went for a walk. Thought I might as well come in. Work on that bass line I was talking over with Ray." He leans in and presses a kiss to Gerard's hair and stops, sniffing him. "You did something."

"I'm wearing new deodorant. It's this weird blue gel stuff. Supposed to be eco-friendly. It smells like gum."

"No, that's not it." Mikey sniffs him again. "You dyed your hair."

"Kinda." Gerard shrugs and snuggles closer. "I do that a lot."

"No. Something's different. I can tell." He reaches over and turns on one of the floor lamps they have scattered about the room. This room of the bunker is designed for ambiance, decorated pretty much specifically for Gerard. When Mikey turns on the light, it glints off Gerard's hair. It's a light auburn, darker and lighter browns and reds swirled into the strands. It looks professionally done, and it reminds Mikey of before Gerard went shopping with their mom when she was buying a new box of blonde, and he decided to try black. "Wow."

"Does it look bad?"

"No. No. It looks great." He straightens slightly, easing Gerard away from him so he can slide off the arm of the chair. He tugs Gerard to his feet as well and walks around him, his hand constantly going to Gerard's hair and feeling it. It's got the softness of newly dyed hair, the conditioner on it masking any dryness from constant dying. "It's just...I don't think I've seen you with hair this color since..."

"I was seventeen."

"Yeah." Mikey bites his lower lip, tilting his head. "I'd forgotten, I think." He stops in front of Gerard and faces him, his hands on either side of his face, tugging at his hair. "It looks good on you. The color. Your color."

"Thanks." Gerard watches Mikey, his eyes darting from Mikey's hands to his eyes to his mouth. "It was kind of spur of the moment. Something new. A new aesthetic for writing. You know, change it up. Leave Danger Days behind."

"Back to the beginning?"

"Back to something." He shakes his head a little, dislodging Mikey's hands. "I don't know. Maybe it's silly. Feeling older now with us having kids and being settled and everything. I didn't want to lose everything young about me."

"I don't think you could, Gee. Your spirit's all young. Infantile sometimes." Mikey grins as Gerard huffs indignantly. 

"You're the meanest Mikeyway."

"I'm your favorite."

"Yeah." Gerard leans into Mikey's hand when Mikey reaches up to touch his hair again. His cheek rests against Mikey's palm, warm and flushed. "You really are. Always have been."

"You know what else your hair reminds me of?"

"Yeah." Gerard nods slightly, careful this time not to disengage from Mikey's touch.  
"You too?"

"Not sure how it couldn't." Mikey brings his other hand up and traces Gerard's lower lip. He feels the heat in his chest, expanding until it seems to eclipse everything else. "I could...I want..."

Gerard nods slightly and steps closer, going up on his toes to press a warm kiss to Mikey's mouth. It's chaste and uncertain. It's been ages since they've done this, since they lay in Gerard's bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what would come next, wondering about what the future held. It was gallery showings and rock concerts, famous models on their arms, and everything they could possibly want. Mikey doesn't even remember how it happened, how it went from daydreams to kisses, Gerard's mouth on his like it is right now, soft and tentative.

“Gee, are you...”

“Yes.” He moves closer and presses his mouth to Mikey’s again, more firmly this time. Mikey backs up a few steps until he can feel the chair against the back of his calves. He breaks the kiss for a moment as he sits down, and then Gerard is in his lap. It’s different and it takes him a moment to realize why – normally he’s the one on Gerard, Gerard is usually their foundation – but it feels good, his weight settling on Mikey’s thighs. Once he’s there, straddling Mikey, they’re kissing again. It hasn’t gone much further as far as kisses go, still light and chaste and barely there. It’s like when Mikey came back from the Paramour and had to relearn his bass, figure out if he could have what he wanted with four strings or if that was something that would fall away in the wake of therapy and medication and a diagnosis.

“Mikey.” Gerard breathes against Mikey’s mouth, his name sending a shiver along his spine as it brushes over his wet lips. “Want to kiss you.”

“You are kissing me.”

“Not...want...” He shakes his head and kisses Mikey again, harder this time. Mikey opens his mouth to Gerard’s tongue, moaning softly as it touches his, slides against it. Gerard leans in, pressing his chest to Mikey’s, his knees sinking into the chair’s cushion, and his cock brushing Mikey’s through their clothes. The last time it was fumbling hands and desperation, both of them afraid the door might open, or someone might see, or they’d come to their senses. This time is different. Mikey can feel it in the deliberate way that Gerard touches him, like he’s focused on how Mikey’s reacting instead of his own need. 

Mikey surrenders, because this is Gerard, and he doesn’t need any more reason than that. There are other reasons. There are a million of them, so many that Mikey’s lost count through the days and the years since before that first kiss. He slides his hands up Gerard’s thighs to his hips, holding them, curved around them so his long fingers rest on the slope of Gerard’s ass.

Gerard’s mouth moves off of Mikey’s, his teeth catching the flesh of Mikey’s lower lip as he pulls back, sucking and tugging on it before he lets it go. Mikey huffs a hot breath, but Gerard moves before he can feel it, his mouth on Mikey’s jaw. There’s a slight bit of stubble there, since Mikey’d been too tired to shave that morning, not willing to turn on the light and look closely in the mirror. Besides, Pig had wanted outside, and after that coffee took precedent. Gerard moans at the feel of it, rubbing his face and mouth against the curve of Mikey’s jaw, whispering against it that it feels so good, that he wants to burn himself up on it.

Mikey reaches up, rubbing Gerard’s cheek with his fingers, wondering if he could feel the burn if he let Gerard go long enough. His cock jerks at the thought and he lets his hand move back to Gerard’s hip, pulling him closer.

“Taste you, Mikey,” Gerard whispers, still on Mikey’s jaw and then at his earlobe, teeth finding more flesh to bite and suck. “Want to taste all of you.” 

“Yes,” Mikey manages to choke the word out, caught in the thick desire in his chest and his throat. Everything about him feels like it’s on fire, shooting sparks where Gerard’s body is touching his. He tilts his head, and Gerard doesn’t need more invitation to press his mouth to Mikey’s neck, licking the lines of his tendons, biting them so that jolts of pain shiver through Mikey’s nervous system. “God, Gee. Yes. Fuck.”

“Mikey. Mikey.” Gerard’s humming Mikey’s name, reciting it like a chorus as he tastes his skin, tugging Mikey’s t-shirt aside to lick along his collarbone, to sink his teeth into the curve of Mikey’s neck where it meets his shoulder. He slides his hands along Mikey’s torso, bunching up the fabric of Mikey’s Star-Wars shirt until he has a decent grip, and then he tugs it up and off, pulling back just enough that it can snake through the breath of air between them before Gerard’s mouth is on Mikey’s again, his tongue sliding in to fuck against Mikey’s, pressure and heat and insistence. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

Mikey feels exposed. He knows his skin should be freezing in the cool air of the bunker, that he should have goosebumps all up and down his arms and his chest, that shudders should be wracking his body, but instead he’s overheated, though his nipples are tight and erect, hard and jutting against his pale skin. He slides his hands up under Gerard’s shirt, every intention of taking it off of him, but then Gerard seems to notice Mikey’s nipples as well, and his mouth closes around one, his body shifting back on Mikey’s lap so he can bite and suck and lick at it relentlessly. Mikey’s head falls back and his hips thrust up and Gerard’s knees dig into his skin as his teeth clamp onto one of Mikey’s nipples, his tongue rubbing over the hard nub. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Mikey gasps roughly and twists Gerard’s shirt in his hands. When this happened before, it was never this. It was kisses and rubbing slightly and hiding their faces in the dark. This is different and forbidden, and Mikey doesn’t want to stop, can’t stop even if he did want to. He wants Gerard to keep touching him, kissing him. He wants Gerard to claim him, to own him physically the way he owns a piece of Mikey’s soul. “Harder.”

Gerard changes the pressure of his teeth and Mikey whimpers softly, his back arching off the chair and toward Gerard’s mouth. Gerard pulls back, his teeth scraping and closing tightly on the very tip of Mikey’s nipple before he lets him go, swiping it with a broad stroke of his tongue before he moves to the other one. Mikey bites his lower lip to keep quiet, his hips thrusting up into Gerard’s weight with regularity now, trying to find a rhythm to alleviate the tension building up inside him. 

“Gee. God. Gee.” Mikey pulls at Gerard’s shirt, tangling it around his head until Gerard pulls off of Mikey’s nipple. He feels red and raw and hot and he can see how flushed they are when he looks down, as he tosses Gerard’s shirt in the corner. He wants to pinch them and see how much they can hurt, wants Gerard to make them hurt, make them throb with his mouth and his fingers and his teeth. “More. Fuck, want more.”

Gerard kisses him, different yet again. This time it’s urgent, full of need. It’s not just comfort and memory, but sex and want and all the taboo things that scared them that first night. Mikey kisses back, just as urgent. This time he’s the aggressor, kissing and biting and sucking. Gerard makes noises, gasps and groans and soft little sighs that make Mikey’s blood churn, his cock throb. Gerard’s skin is like a canvas, pale with lines that Mikey can trace, can see pictures that might someday be there from paint or Mikey’s fingers. Gerard used to be ashamed of his body, hiding it in drab, oversized clothes, and Mikey remembers envious looks at his long, lanky frame. It wasn’t jealousy really, but the want of the haves and have-nots, and Mikey spent just as much time coveting the soft feel of Gerard against him, wishing he was more than skin and bones to lay against, that he could be something someone would want to press into and hold for hours.

Gerard grabs one of Mikey’s hands from his hip and lifts it. He presses a kiss to Mikey’s palm, nuzzling it for a moment before he licks it, tasting the nervous sweat from the clammy skin. He bites the ball of Mikey’s thumb and then scrapes his teeth over Mikey’s wrist, tugging back the terrycloth wristband, his tongue exploring the faint lines that no one else but Gerard and Alicia know. Mikey shakes his head and groans, fingers digging into Gerard’s side above his jeans, thumb gliding over the silvery scar of a stretch mark. They’re damaged, both of them, broken and put back together, but still them. Always them. That’s why everything’s still the same like this, the way they’re moving together, touching each other. 

Grinding down, Gerard takes two of Mikey’s fingers in his mouth, running his tongue between them before sucking on them, taking them deep. Mikey groans again, lower this time, rumbling in his chest and his throat. He fumbles for Gerard’s fly, unfastening the belt and the button and the zipper, sliding his hand in. The cotton of his briefs is wet along the front as Mikey’s hand slides down, feeling the hard bulge. “Want.”

Gerard nods and shakes his head both, holding Mikey’s wrist, his thumb rubbing the sensitive skin while he seeks another finger with his tongue, curling it around Mikey’s ring finger and sucking it into his mouth as well. Mikey looks at him, from his mouth curved wet and tight around Mikey’s fingers to his nose, nostrils flaring with every breath. His eyes are dark, almost colorless behind his dilated pupils, and his hair, falling into his face, tangling in his lashes is the different and familiar auburn. Mikey groans and pulls his fingers free, sliding them to the back of Gerard’s neck, damp against his neck as he pulls him in and kisses him, takes possession of Gerard’s mouth. His other hand goes around Gerard’s waist and he slides off the chair, onto his knees, laying Gerard out on the floor. He blinks up at Mikey and shakes his head and Mikey kisses him again, hard and bruising, claiming. 

“Want you.”

Gerard nods and Mikey fumbles with his own pants, pushing them down out of the way. He feels Gerard arch up beneath him and shove his clothes down further, and Mikey’s knees land on the fabric of Gerard’s jeans, pinning him to the floor beneath him. Gerard arches up, his cock sliding against Mikey’s and both of them break apart inside, lost in a sound that feels like an echo when Mikey hears it from Gerard’s lips.

“More. God, Mikey. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. Can’t. Won’t. He steals another kiss, not stopping to breathe, bracing himself on one hand as the other slides down to curve around them both. Gerard makes a noise that hits Mikey directly in his groin, something soft and surrendered and given over. It reverberates against Mikey’s tongue, echoing in his mouth like it might last forever. He wants to be closer, crawl inside Gerard and lose himself, be _one_ with him. It’s something he’s been trying to do for his entire life in one way or another, just figure out what it takes to be part of Gerard again, like they’re Siamese twins separated at birth, Mikey born three years too late. 

He thrusts into his hand, along Gerard’s length. Gerard gasps, breaking the kiss and panting roughly in the cool air. Mikey feels a shiver that ghosts over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Hearing Gerard is just as good as feeling the sounds that he makes, better maybe because they’re out there in the universe for anyone to hear. “God, Gee. Yes.”

They move together like music, Mikey’s hard bass line lifting up the sounds Gerard’s making like lyrics. It’s a thrust and a slide, hips and knees and arms, his hand curved tightly around their cocks, holding them together. His hand is slick, and he’s not sure if it’s from him or Gerard or both of them, it just feels good, right. They fit together, similar and different, and Mikey can feel the way the head of Gerard’s cock seems more tapered. Mikey’s head flares more at the base, and Gerard’s is thinner so there’s less of a ridge for Mikey’s fingers to rub against, but Gerard seems to feel it the same, losing control in time to Mikey’s strokes.

“God. Have to...” Gerard shakes his head and pulls Mikey closer, hard enough that Mikey’s arm gives way and he lands on his elbow, closing what little distance there was between them. Gerard's mouth finds Mikey’s neck, teeth and tongue sliding over sweat-damp skin, licking and biting until Mikey’s pulse is directly under his tongue, thudding roughly. Gerard moans against him, thrusting harder now, sucking steadily, and Mikey can feel the bruise coming up on his skin, the pool of blood spreading against the suction of Gerard’s mouth. 

“Gee...gonna...gonna...” He gasps and comes, his cock pulsing in time with his blood, and his hand strokes his come along the length of them both. Gerard shudders and writhes beneath him, like this is something too far, too much, and then he comes too, his hips arching up as his come paints Mikey’s chest and abdomen. 

Mikey lies there, unmoving. He can feel the rise and fall of every rough breath Gerard takes, and he knows somehow that he’s breathing as well. Maybe they’re sharing a set of lungs, maybe this pushed them over the edge and the skin is just an illusion between them. 

“You’re heavy for such a skinny fuck.”

Mikey ducks his head and laughs, pressing the giggle to Gerard’s shoulder. “What happened to not fat-shaming?”

“I was skinny-shaming.” 

“I thought no shaming was allowed. We are shameless.”

“We’re definitely that.” Gerard turns his head and looks away from Mikey at the room. “Frank and Ray are going to _kill_ us.”

“We’re going to tell them?”

“They’re going to smell that it smells like jizz in here and they’re going to blame one of us. I fully intend on letting them know it was you.”

“Hey!” Mikey lifts up on his elbows and pouts slightly. “How is that nice?”

“Why do I have to be nice?”

“It’s your room. We went through fifteen different shades of not-quite-white to find the perfect one for you. Therefore it’s your jizz.”

“Mean.” Gerard closes his eyes and then opens them, looking up at Mikey steadily. Mikey looks down at him and meets his gaze, his long bangs falling forward and tickling Gerard’s nose. Gerard pushes them back. “I’m still the same me. No matter what my hair looks like.”

“I know.”

He nods and then scrunches his face up. “Though if I’m going to look like teenage me...” He reaches between them and slides his fingers through the come pooled on his stomach then reaches up.

“Dude. Dude.” Mikey tries to pull back, but Gerard wraps his legs around him. “What are you doing?”

“Need to be teenage you.” He smears the come in Mikey’s hair, using both hands to spread it around like styling gel. “A bird’s nest or maybe that flat ironed look.” He starts to smooth it down onto Mikey’s forehead, fighting not to laugh as Mikey struggles to get away. “What? C’mon, Mikes.”

“No. Ew. You’re disgusting.” He’s laughing as well, and making a mess of both of them. Gerard refuses to let him go though, and eventually he settles back on top of him, surrendering the fight. “I love you, Gee.”

“I love you, Mikes.” He kisses him and unwraps his legs from around him. Mikey lies there for a moment, and wonders if Gerard’s thinking the same thing, holding onto the moment just for a little while longer. “Like no one else.”  



End file.
